


Why So

by Mxxnlit



Series: Tell Me Pretty Lies [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Anxious Oikawa Tooru, Communication, Depressed Sugawara Koushi, Developing Relationship, Established Relationship, Helpful Oikawa Tooru, Helpful Sugawara Koushi, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Side Story, Snapshots, Sort of? - Freeform, but really mild, i dunno what to tag this, it’s soft and set between chapters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:54:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25449439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mxxnlit/pseuds/Mxxnlit
Summary: Snapshots of a developing relationship.Set between chapters 6 & 7 of Last Young Renegade and does reference that work, can probably be read as a stand-alone with little issue
Relationships: Oikawa Tooru/Sugawara Koushi
Series: Tell Me Pretty Lies [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1730530
Comments: 2
Kudos: 53





	Why So

**Author's Note:**

> This is short but kind of cute and something tangible while I work on getting chapter 8 of LYR out. Please enjoy!

“Why so sad,” he says over the phone, as casually as he can manage when his guard is already dropped from exhaustion and the knowledge that only Suga will see/hear his emotions. He rearranges himself on the universal bedspread, traces the generic hotel art with his eyes while he waits patiently for a response. There’s a chance that Suga will dodge the question, or insist he’s fine despite the audible catch and hollow ring of his voice, but there’s an equal chance lately that he’ll spill, so Tooru waits. 

“...it’s just been a long day, I’m fine really. I’ll be better after a shower.”

“Do you want to go take your shower? I’m not going anywhere tonight, you can call back later if you want, if you’re up for it.”

There’s a brief pause, almost hesitant by the sound of the breath over the line, for a few seconds Tooru waits for some other explanation to pour forth, but instead Koushi inhales and pastes an audible smile across his face. “Yeah, I think I will, thank you. I’ll call you back if it isn’t too late.”

“Too late? Don’t worry about that, I’ll be here if you want me to be.” (Haven’t I always been? Don’t you know I want to be around for you?)

“You have a game tomorrow, Tooru, don’t stay up on my account, I really will be fine, okay? Good night, and talk to you in a bit.”

“Good night…”

Well that… that could’ve ended better, probably. Oikawa sets the call aside, maybe he shouldn’t have asked. Next time, he’ll know better next time.

-x-

Sunlight creeps through the windows and that should be a good thing. It  _ is _ a good thing, in some ways, warm and bright, gentle in the way it filters through the curtains and gives everything in Oikawa’s bedroom a golden glow. It makes everything beautiful but the dead look on Suga’s face while he stares at the ceiling. The familiar, though unwelcome, heavy curdle of failure twists in Tooru’s stomach as he watches. It’s a terrible feeling, somehow worse than usual because he isn’t failing himself and his own over ambitious goals, he’s failing  _ Koushi,  _ even if that’s a little ridiculous: he’s trying his best but still the only one that can really help Koushi is Koushi, all he can do is support him and remind him that he  _ has  _ support. Still, the heavy feeling lingers. 

Tooru reaches out across the minute space between them and plucks Koushi’s hand from amongst the sheets, he brings it up to press his lips gently against the back of that palm. “What are you thinking about, Kou-chan,” he asks in a whisper, even that quiet sound feels like it’s shattering something.

Something did shatter, because Suga looks alive again when he turns his head. He’s not quite smiling, but there’s a light in his eyes that isn’t there when he’s drifting away from personhood. He turns more fully, settles against Tooru’s side, hands still joined and he hums. “Nothing in particular,” comes the answer, and it’s fine really that he doesn’t want to talk about it, but why then does Tooru still feel as though he’s failed?

-x-

“Is that my jacket,” Tooru asks once he’s come in and removed his shoes, Suga shoots him a coy look. It’s quite obviously his jacket, for one it’s a size or two too large on Suga’s shorter frame, for another it quite obviously has his name on it. He doesn’t mind per se, in fact the sight is rather cute, but more importantly: that’s the coy, mischievous look of the Suga he knows and loves. 

“Maybe it is,” Suga shrugs, “it’s comfortable. Do you mind? Me borrowing your things?”

Oikawa crosses the room, and leans down to offer a kiss in greeting. “Do I mind my boyfriend,” and isn’t it lovely to finally be able to say that, “borrowing my clothes? Of course not, though is there a reason for it?”

“It’s comfortable,” Suga repeats. “And, well, it’s nice,” he looks down to his sleeves, a touch more shy than before, “belonging I mean, with someone, to someone. It’s nice.”

Anything he may have planned to say after that gets interrupted by an abrupt embrace, and though Oikawa hasn’t been prone to easy tears since childhood, he wouldn’t deny the mist in his eyes as he holds Suga to him. Suga clutches at him in turn, fingers curled delicately in his grey hoodie and face tucked snugly and securely against a broad chest. 

“I’m glad I can be that for you, Koushi.”

-x-

Colder weather brings with it the seasonal blues, and while professional volleyball runs all year round, things tend to slow, or at least feel as though they do, towards the winter months. Oikawa sits at his kitchen table folding endless paper planes. He’s surrounded by them, pristine in their blank whiteness, all identical with the same crisp folds, save for a few crumpled attempts at cranes. 

“I’m home,” comes a quiet greeting to follow the sound of the door. 

“Welcome home.”

There’s footsteps, soft and puttering about before they approach. Arms settle over his shoulders and cross over his chest, soft familiar hair brushes against his right ear. “What’s all this?”

“Planes, I couldn't get the birds right but I know how to do planes.”

Koushi squeezes him a little tighter, “is somebody sick?”

Tooru shakes his head. “No,” he whispers, “I just thought we could use a wish. You know, happiness and all that.”

There’s a tense pause, and then, carefully, “are you unhappy?”

“It’s winter, I’m sad. I feel like I’m not doing enough.”

“Tooru…”

“You’re always staring at the moon, I thought the planes maybe could take all our sadness there, if I folded enough of them.” 

Another squeeze, and then they separate. Koushi circles the table, sits down opposite and plucks up a sheet of paper. “If  _ we  _ folded enough. It’s  _ our  _ sadness right? So I can help you.”

-x-

The morning light, bright and winter fresh, breaks over two prone bodies littered in the marks of the other. Oikawa curls tighter against Suga’s back, against the light, against the cold. Suga mumbles something indistinguishable and grips tighter at the arm sling over his waist. “Morning, Major,” Oikawa mutters with a kiss behind the shorter’s ear. Again, another mumble, still unintelligible, likely a protest about such a nickname, but every plane needs a captain and every captain a major. Or something. 

Suga shifts, rolling enough to displace Oikawa from the sensitive skin behind his ear, this in turn lands them face to face. Finally a half intelligent phrase: “Groun’ ‘trol.” What a pleasant greeting. 

_ (“Why can’t I be ‘captain’?”) _

_ (“Captain makes me think of Daichi, I’d rather not be thinking of my best friend when we’re having  _ private time.”)

_ (“I was a captain too you know.”) _

_ (“What is that like a kink for you or something? Sorry, I’m not calling you that. …‘sides isn’t ’Ground Control’ nicer? All the planes would crash without the support.”) _

_ (“... Ground Control is fine.”) _

“Mornin’, how’s the weather?”

A cold nose nudges the hollow of his throat, “clear fer take ovv.”

Is there anything cuter than sleepy mumbles? Maybe the sight of that same sleepy mumbling boyfriend nestled against him. The tally marks rest neglected and ignored, unneeded. 

-x-

The locker room, for the most part, is layered in the gooey lethargy that follows a hard worked training camp. While there are always a few that keep up their energy even this late, the majority change quietly, eager to get out and get home, to their families, their friends, their significant others, or just to dinner and Netflix. Oikawa falls into that quieter category, eager to get home to the familiarity of his own home and the person he  _ wants _ to be spending late nights with. He opens his phone, to text that he’s on his way home, and finds a message waiting for him. 

**_Kou-chan:_ ** _ welcome home! I hope the camp was good. I’m looking forward to seeing you tomorrow! _

**_Me:_ ** _ tomorrow? I thought we were meeting up tonight, did something come up? _

**_Kou-chan:_ ** _ a little sorry. >^< _

**_Kou-chan:_ ** _ there’s a storm coming on, we’re coming in for a landing, and a rain check? If that’s okay? _

**_Me:_ ** _ of course that’s okay! Are you okay though? Will you be? I can swing by yours if you’d like, if you don’t want to go out.  _

**_Kou-chan:_ ** _ thank you _

**_Kou-chan:_ ** _ but i think I need a little time alone. Tomorrow though? _

**_Me:_ ** _ yeah, tomorrow.  _

**_Me:_ ** _ take care okay? I’ll be around if you want to talk later _

**_Me:_ ** _ it’s okay if you don’t want to later either, just, I’m here okay? I’m here and I’ll wait until you’re ready to come home, take your time Major. _

-x-

Another day, another evening, another night cuddled up in the same bed, wearing each other’s clothes while watching Netflix. The lights are off save the small yellow glow of the bedside lamp and the multi-colours of some cooking show on the screen. 

The food shown is interesting, and broken down to enough steps that it doesn’t even seem that hard to make, maybe they’ll make it sometime, if either remembers it. Truth be told, neither one of them pays much mind to the screen, too wrapped up in familiarity, safety, to bother staying alert. They doze off there, content knowing that even when at a loss for how to reach one another, there will always be someone waiting at home.


End file.
